Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Today I hit up a new bar here at the top of the Great State. Yes, yes, I sold out my old haunts for a job and a bar in a strip mall. Sue me. I needed a gig. Anywho, this place is a chain of sorts, seeing as it has three other locations, or so I’ve been told. From the outside, its pretty mundane, like any other store in a strip mall. Uniformly built to the specs of the mall’s aesthetic orders. On the inside, though, I have to say I was impressed. Nice wooden bar, friendly bartenders who wanted to know my name. The whole deal. The only problem was that it only made me miss my old haunts and old friends even more. Nostalgia hit me like a freight train. This bar will serve its purpose, but I just might have found the best places back down in the Capitol City.

So I was watching basketball at this bar. For the purposes of this blog, we’ll call this bar, “Mall Bar.” Basketball in October. Fucking strange world. For some reason, the NBA has decided to do a series of “China Games.” Basketball in China. Before the game, ESPN was doing a whole thing about how wonderful Beijing is and how its all lit up like Times Square. Yea, go 100 miles outside of Beijing and it’s the Middle Ages. Back in 1989 China sold its soul for neon lights and government controlled capitalism. I wonder if Mao ever predicted this? Mao once said, “Religion is the opiate of the people.” The adage should have included that neon is a derivative of the poppy plant. The West is so afraid to show pictures of the Dalai Lama with Bush for fear of pissing off the Chinese, and ESPN broadcasts live from downtown Beijing. Something wrong with this picture? Selling products and endorsing Gatorade is ok, but human rights take a backseat to a country where most of the people live in the 16th century.

So I sit at Mall Bar and watch ESPN glorify the worst human right abusing country in the history of the world. I finish my beer at the strip mall and go home, amazed that I live in a country that wears blinders in favor of Gatorade and LeBron James.

Monday, October 15, 2007

There is something sadistic about the Patsy Cline song, "I Fall to Pieces." I don't know what it is. Her voice was so haunting, it almost creeps me out. This is not to say that I absolutely don't love Patsy Cline, because I do. I harp a good bit about how much I love an older sound of country music. Patsy might just hit that nail on the head. Hank Williams, Merle Haggard, and Patsy all have this sound that speaks about a poor life, only filled briefly with diversion and enjoyment. Today's country music lacks that. The sound out of the Nashville establishment sounds more like people living a life of leisure, with only a few moments of despair and horror. I am a consummate critic of everything and country music is no exception. Sure, there are a few country songs here and there, made in the last 10 or so years that I actually appreciate, but for authenticity, I have to go back 30 or 40 years. I guess its the same with rock and roll.

So the kid found a job. Actually, the job fell my way. This whole experience serves to illustrate the point taken from "Its a Wonderful Life," which is, "No man is ever poor who has friends." Thanks to a wonderful friend, I have a job and it really is a wonderful life.

Tomorrow I start my new job and hopefully I won't fall on my ass. Somehow I doubt I will, seeing as there are too many good people that work with me to let that happen, but hey, I am a world-renown klutz.

Basically what I will be doing will be akin to Danny Devito's job in "The Rainmaker." For further inquiries, please dial 9 or wait for an operator.

Living up here at the top of The Great State is interesting. My apartment is luxurious, there are tons of Applebees and I only know 3 people. Let the adventures start!

Monday, October 8, 2007

Alright. Alright. ALRIGHT, GODDAMMIT!! I'm back, cats and kittens. Your truly finally landed a job, but at a great price. I am being forced to leave the capitol city and head to other parts of the Great State in search of my fortune. I leave behind good times and great memories, but I'll always come back. When I first moved to Jack-Town I was pretty disappointed because I was leaving the happy hunting grounds of Oxfordtown. Over the years, though, I've grown to love the Capitol City and relish in its danger and eclectic style. Unfortunately, the baby boomers still have a death grip on all the good jobs, so I'm packing up my bags and heading to new spring and winter quarters to hunt for better pelts and meet new natives.

The job hunt was grueling and as with everything in life it came down to who you know. Well, a friend came through and I've gotten something lined up. The kid was down in the third, but it was a TKO after 4. Just don't call it a comeback.